


Rebuilding

by sihaya13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 03:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7298104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sihaya13/pseuds/sihaya13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva McGonagall in the immediate aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebuilding

Minerva McGonagall felt beaten. Beaten, and broken, and ever so old.

Her bones creaked and cracked much like the stone statues she had transfigured for the battle as she surveyed all of those she had failed to protect. So many dead.

She supposed there would be time to enjoy the victory later, but for now, all she could feel was defeat. She knew that the world would move on, that it would keep on turning, and those who survived would continue on with their lives, living with their losses and their memories of the horrors of war. But she felt too old, far too old to reinvent her life yet again, too old to figure out how exactly to live in a time of peace.

The Weasleys were all gathered nearby, holding each other as they sobbed. Bitter tears ran down Minerva’s face as she watched. She was not sure if Fred had ever known how fond she was of him and his twin, and she wished now that she had made it more apparent. Despite her strictness, she had always had a soft spot for the mischief makers, for the people who could cast away their cares and seek only to make others laugh. What she wouldn't give to be able to laugh right now. 

Her heart had plummeted when she realised Remus Lupin was dead. She had never met a teacher who cared more about his students, or one so gifted at engaging them in their studies. She had never met a kinder man, or one more willing to ply you with chocolate at the slightest sign of unhappiness. He, too, had been one of her favourite students.

And then there was little Colin Creevey. So young, and so innocent. He had no place in a war. He had even less of a place being a casualty of war. She couldn’t help but hope that he was merely petrified, as he had been so many years before, in a different age.

In all this sadness, she did not even have Dumbledore to sooth her with some oddly phrased pearl of wisdom, as had been his speciality. He, too, was dead.

So many dead.

The world felt chaotic. Not in the way that it had done during the war, when everything was coated in hectic violence. No, this was the chaos of quiet, of stillness. The chaos of victory.

“Professor?” Hermione Granger asked tentatively. Minerva hadn’t even seen her, she had been far too wrapped up in her own mind.

“Miss Granger,” Minerva braved a smile.

“Come and sit down Professor, I’ll fetch you a cup of tea.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

She shuffled her way over to a nearby bench, a bench that had once been home to happy, healthy, laughing, hungry students. Soon after Hermione appeared with a cup of tea in her hands.

“Professor, Hogwarts will open next year, won’t it?” Hermione asked.

Minerva blinked at her. How the girl could be thinking of study at a time like this, she could not imagine.

But of course, of course she was. And she, too, should be pondering such matters. She couldn’t mope forever. There was a school to run, after all, and students to teach.


End file.
